


Waiting For the Sun

by Cornerofmadness



Series: Perceptions of the Fifth Sun [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: Spike goes looking for Illyria after the battle to sort out his feelings and encounters more than he was expecting





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Perceptions of the Fifth Sun Series story #2
> 
> Disclaimer - so not mine. All rights belong to Mr. Whedon et al
> 
> Warning- sexual situations and violence, implied raped
> 
> Time Line - Post NFA
> 
> Author’s Note #1 - This story was written for both A2ZMom for her Hurricane donations and for the second BtvsAts_lyric challenge. Lyrics are at the end.
> 
> Author’s Note #2 - While this is the second in a series, there is no need to read the first if you don’t want to. All you need to know is after the battle Spike was left on his own and his view of what happened is not the whole picture. The first story is Gog and Magog Unchained.

Chapter One

 

“Take a photograph!” Spike yelled at the young man staring at him then felt immensely childish for doing it. However, there was some satisfaction in acting out. The pressure had been building on him and the release felt good. He was so alone now, and Spike knew he was never good alone. He had been alone as a mortal, writing his poetry, and thinking he’d go to hell as he wanked off to thoughts of Cicely. Alone got him stuck in a submarine, drunk in Sunnydale as a laughingstock to the Slayer and her friends, back to Sunnydale for neutering.

No, alone was bad. He could pretend to be the Big Bad, the lone wolf, but the truth was he liked being part of a group. He thrived on company and competition. Needing company was why he and Dru stayed with Darla and Angelus even if he wanted to kill his ersatz sire most of the time. It was why he started hanging out with the Scoobies in the first place.

He was truly on his own now and that was a huge problem. Percy was gone, Gunn, too. He had heard whispers in the very divey-est of demon bars that Peaches was dust. Angel’s death shouldn’t hurt. He should be rolling in said dust. Instead, Spike felt somehow empty. Most of his life had been defined by Angelus, showing him up, doing right by him, hating him, idolizing him, sharing Angelus’ lovers, occasionally sharing him.

Spike didn’t want to believe Angel was gone. He had hung around L.A. for at least a month, hoping to prove the rumors wrong but there were no signs of Angel. It seemed like the only other person to survive the battle was Big Blue, and she was the reason Spike was currently on the streets of Cleveland, yelling at some hapless kid outside of Spike’s new shelter. For a moment, he was content with glaring at the kid until he hurried along. Spike didn’t even care that it was pouring and he was soaked to the bone.

Just two days had passed since he'd arrived in town, following the rumors about the demon-king he'd heard while looking for Angel in Vegas. He wanted to know if Illyria really was setting up shop in Cleveland. He needed to sort through his feelings for her. Feelings. Huh. Those feelings felt fairly close to love and that frightened him. He tried to tell himself that his affection for Fred had been in part gratitude for her efforts to give him back his body and part rebound from Buffy. Still, the feelings lingered once Fred died, and he had some attachment to Illyria that he couldn’t explain. 

In his budding search for Illyria, he had run into Clem, who had been drawn by the Cleveland Hellmouth. Clem had been eager to have a roommate, and Spike figured what the hell. Maybe it would feel like old times. As he let himself into Clem’s apartment, he wished he could excise thoughts of Illyria and Buffy and loneliness from his mind.

“Spike, you have to come see this,” Clem said, breaking into Spike’s turbulent thoughts.

The vampire looked at the wrinkled demon and saw that he looked oddly depressed, his wrinkles hanging even lower than usual but there was a hard glint in his eyes. “What is it?” Spike felt a tightness in his gut. Something was wrong. He took off his trench coat, letting the water sluice off him.

Clem just poked a thick-nailed finger at the TV. He was watching yet another newscast about the Slayers. Ever since Wolfram and Hart had started stirring the pot, those newscasts were a dime a dozen. Spike was surprised that Clem was even bothering to watch the tripe. 

Then Spike saw a flash of a picture, a face he knew well. He dropped his soggy pack of cigarettes as the news sank in. “Rupert’s dead,” Spike said, his voice tight and brittle.

Clem nodded, his dewlaps swaying. “A group in Sheffield bought into Wolfram and Hart’s stories about the battle in L.A. being all Giles’ fault. That he could have sent the Slayers to stop the demons and he didn’t. They killed him.” Clem’s voice seemed too loud for the small apartment.

“I can’t bloody believe it.” It was all Spike could think to say. Those words were so inadequate. Life was hard enough because Buffy hadn’t bothered to talk to him when he first came back from the dead, especially since he had died for her and for the world. How that paled now to losing so many friends, even if at the end Rupert had shown his true colors towards Spike. The Scoobies had shut him out but Angel’s friends welcomed him. Now they were all dead. He was the only one of Angel’s crew left, well, him and Illyria and possible Lorne, since he didn’t bother to show for the big fight. Andrew had told him poor Anya had died and now Rupert? Spike wondered if he had ever felt this alone before.

Clem’s little eyes fixed on him. “What are we going to do?”

“What can we do?” Spike went to the kitchen and grabbed a few beers. 

Clem scrubbed a nail in the folds of his skin. “Are you going to go looking for Buffy?”

Spike knew he probably should. He knew Rupert was like a father to her and Dawnie, hell to the whole crew really but he couldn’t get past Buffy’s rejection, her lack of concern for him when he came back from the dead. Rupert hadn’t come through for him and Angel. They’d been left to face the worst alone. Buffy and the rest of them hadn’t been there for Peaches or him at the end. They had abandoned both vampires. There was a sense of loss he couldn’t get past. To hell with her, with all of them. If they had just helped maybe Gunn and Angel and lots of innocents would be alive. “Not going to look for her,” he told Clem and shut himself in his room with the beers.

Spike purposefully thought of nothing as he downed the first beer. Drusilla came to mind with the second beer. His century long love affair with her danced in his mind. It had been a good time. Thoughts of Buffy came with beer three and four but it was too painful to think on long. Then came Fred and Illyria. He needed to get her sorted out of his heart.

Were his feelings for Illyria like his feelings for Buffy or Dru? Was he really in love with Illyria? Had he really loved Buffy? “Slayer, is it you I want or just the notion?” he muttered, starting on another beer. He was sure he felt something for Buffy. He had to have. He’d thrown away Drusilla for her. He threw away his dignity when he was letting Buffy use him and beat on him. He had screwed him and Buffy up with the things he had done, when his monster had gotten the best of him. In the end, when she said she loved him, he wanted to believe her but he feared she was in love with the notion of him, with the idea of dying in love, trying to make peace with sacrificing a man she loved. 

Was it petty of him to think Buffy got off on that misery? Didn’t she get a lot of mileage out of killing Angel that time? Okay, that _was_ petty but he was still feeling hurt and unwanted. Maybe Buffy needed him now but something told him Illyria needed him, too. She was alone in a world she didn’t understand, right? She might welcome more of his guidance...or at least appreciate having someone around she could beat on to make her feel better. Well, maybe he wouldn’t let anyone do that again. 

However, she was here in Cleveland and he didn’t have a clue where to find Buffy anymore. Maybe she was still in Rome but he had heard tales of her in other places. The demon underground did like to keep tabs on Slayers, made them easier to avoid. Buffy had spent the last year making sure she had no contact with him so why would she need him now? So much for her claims of love. She didn’t want him so why rush to her side? She had her friends to help her through Rupert’s death. His presence wasn’t required.

Spike polished off his beers, feeling hollow and sad. Had there been too many losses this time for him to bounce back? He hated feeling adrift. He glanced at the heavily curtained window. Rain beat against the pane, a melancholy cadence to match his mood.

“Rain, rain go away,” he sang, his tongue stumbling from all the beer. “Come again another day.” Dru used to sing that little song to Miss Edith. She’d make him hold the porcelain creation like it was a real baby. She had loved that doll. Outside of her friends, what did Buffy love? And what of Illyria? What did he really know about them? The women paraded in his head. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the apartment to wash them free.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Spike told Clem he was heading out to find Illyria. Clem shared his feelings that Spike was insane and making a huge mistake. Clem had a point but Spike didn’t care. This is what he had come to Cleveland for. There was no backing out now. He needed to make sure Illyria wasn’t doing anything bad. He owed it to Angel and Wesley so he headed out into the unending down pour; damn lake effect. He wanted out of Cleveland.

He had intended on keeping an eye on Illyria after she helped him away from the big battle. His body had been so torn up though, and she just left him where she had stashed him. He barely had the strength to find food but that didn’t impress his-her highness. The demon-god-king had simply left Spike to fend for himself, and it had taken weeks to track her down. That should be his first clue that any feelings he might have for her were sheer insanity and not reciprocated. Only one way to find out, locate her.

He hadn’t counted on Cleveland’s demon life being so buttoned up. They were afraid of something. What a bunch of useless wankers. He was half tempted to give up for the night when he heard two vampires talking about the Queen of Cleveland. That had to be Illyria, didn’t it? He thought he remembered one of the vampires from the Roaring Twenties, a vacant twit of a toy he once played with when Dru wasn’t watching. What was her name? Kelly? Kathy? No. Calamity, no but it would be fitting. Constance, that was it.

“‘Allo Constance,” Spike said, ambling up to them. “Can I buy you ladies a drink?”

“Do we know you?” Constance sniffed, her eyes raking over him.

“Of course you do,” Spike replied, ruffling rain water out of his bleached hair. “Chicago in the twenties.”

“Oh yeah, you had that crazy bitch with you,” Constance said, her head bobbing as she remembered.

Spike’s jaw clenched. He still hated it when anyone insulted Dru. “Yeah, that’s me. Spike.” He beckoned to the bartender. “Set us up. Draft for me. Ladies?”

“I think it’s a little presumptuous of you to think we want you to buy us drinks,” the other vampire said, her dark eyes slotting.

“Andrea, hush. I’ll have another Amaretto Sour, and she’ll have another Bloody Mary,” Constance twittered at the drink name. Her companion gave her the dim eye. “What brings you to Cleveland, Spike. Still have that crazy bitch with you?”

“No, Dru went her own way.” Spike wanted that draft beer now and his information so he could be away from this idiot. He should get more for slogging through the rain than spending the night with an ice bitch vampire and her vacuous friend. “I’m looking for Illyria. Heard of her?”

“Keep your mouth shut,” Andrea hissed, glancing around to see if anyone heard. “No one here mentions the Queen’s name. It’s too dangerous.”

“Don’t worry. Big Blue and I are old friends.” Spike waved her off, his usual confident smirk sliding into place.

“She’ll kill you for that.” Andrea looked oddly happy with that idea.

“The Queen has no friends, just people she uses up,” Constance said, fear dancing over her pale face. “She’s the reason we’re leaving Cleveland.”

“Oh, why?” Spike hoped Constance would just tell him without him looking overly eager. He didn’t want them to know their information was worth something to him.

“She’s using the Hellmouth, trying to open it up. I’m all for chaos but I don’t want to be around when Hell comes to earth,” Constance said, slugging back her amaretto.

“And I refuse to worship anyone,” Andrea said, finding the idea distasteful. “Including a demon-queen.”

“Anyone know where to find the queen?” Spike wondered if his goal of finding Illyria hadn’t just changed. He was less concerned now about any feeling he had for Illyria. Spike was far more worried about her apparently going ahead with some of her world domination plans. If that were true, he’d have to stop her; as if he could. He’d be the one dead but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. Damn Buffy and her friends for turning him into a white hat. Damn Angel for encouraging him then getting himself killed.

“She took over a high rise on the lake but don’t ask me which condo. I don’t want to know,” Constance said, holding up her hands. She had a nail bitting habit, Spike noticed.

“Thank you, ladies. Maybe moving out of town’s a good idea. I’ll leave you to your drinks.” Spike slid off the stool. He couldn’t escape fast enough.

“You’re really leaving town?” Andrea asked.

He shrugged. “This is one of those ‘the less you know the better off you are’ deals.”

“Good enough for me,” Andrea said, turning back to her drink.

Spike knew leaving would be a good idea, just move on, find Buffy or Faith and come back at Illyria with them. It might help stop her but he decided to scout out the situation better first, see if Big Blue was really up to no good and to see if she could be reached and stopped peacefully.

It didn’t take him long to find the right condo high rise, in spite of the non-stop rain. The area should have been bustling with life but instead it was devoid of anything suggesting habitation. It was eerie enough to goose pimple his skin and excite the demon within him.

Spike was surprised to see very few lackeys around and the few that he did see weren’t the brightest bulbs. He’d always had that problem with lackeys back in the good old days. Demons bright enough to do a good job didn’t want to be a follower, and that left shoddy help at best. He would have killed Buffy back then if he had had better help and part of him thrilled to that thought. And a small part was sickened by it; the weak part that loved her. He didn’t know how to carve it out of his heart, no matter how wrong it was for him or Peaches to ever have loved a Slayer.

He made his way to the penthouse via the fire stairs. Getting into the penthouse wasn’t hard since it wasn’t locked. Illyria would probably just kill whoever was foolish enough to go inside. Whoever had owned the condo before had good taste and a splendid view of Lake Erie. It only seemed fitting that the god-king had a view of its realm. Dru and Darla would have done anything for a view like this. He spotted Illyria out on the balcony, watching the lightning or, knowing her, counting rain drops. She turned woodenly to face him, surprise bleeding through her mask.

“My toy has found me.” She sounded pleased.

Spike wrinkled his nose. “Nobody’s toy, pet.”

She just nodded slightly. “You were mine. I wished to keep you.”

“You were the one who left me behind, Blue,” Spike reminded her, not sure if this was a good sign or not.

Her icy eyes clouded a bit. “That was an oversight.”

Spike knew that was as close to a ‘glad to see you’ as he was likely to get. “Glad to hear it. Sit and chat.” He gestured to the couch of her appropriated condo. “Tell me all about your big plans for Cleveland. I’ve heard a little.” Spike sat on the couch, water bleeding into the plush fabric and wasn’t surprised that Illyria didn’t move. She wasn’t much for creature comforts.

The look of supreme annoyance that she specialized in carved itself in the familiar lines of her face. “From what lower beings did you hear of me?”

“Oh, just a little here and there.” Spike shrugged. If he sounded too interested she’d shut him out. “You know how us lower beings like to chatter.”

Illyria’s lips thinned. “Far too much. I do not wish to speak to you about my plans.”

“What if I can help?” Spike asked, knowing he couldn’t leave until he had an idea what Illyria might do. Previously, she had claimed to have given up on ruling humans but the Hellmouth seemed to have recharged her.

“Help? You are an insignificant flea,” she said, as if it should be obvious to him. “But this shell liked you. You have proven to be a good fighter. Perhaps you can be of some assistance.”

Now he was getting somewhere but there was something hidden in her eyes. She wasn’t telling him everything. “Tell me about it,” he said, smiling with satisfaction. Plumbing Illyria for information was like trying to draw out one of Dru’s visions when she didn’t want to share.

Spike listened for hours to her half formed plans. Illyria was confused why no one was willing to worship her on command except for a small handful of people. She was perplexed by feelings of loss over Wesley. She had strange bodily sensations she didn’t understand nor was willing to describe. Spike wondered if it was remnants of Fred’s memories that were the road blocks to Illyria’s lust for power, or was it simply the limitations of her human shell. He no longer thought she had any feelings for him other than what one might have for a prized hound. He was fairly sure he’d have to bite the bullet and try to find Buffy or Faith to stop Illyria or more likely go find Willow. With both Rupert and Percy dead, she was the only brain, not to mention the only witch, the white hats had left. He could see how Illyria had reverted to kind once the influence the L.A. crew had on her had faded.

Spike glanced at the window. “Sun’s almost up, luv. I need to get home.” Spike wasn’t sure if she’d just let him leave but Illyria remained expressionless as he got up and headed for the door. He wondered if Cleveland ever saw the sun or if he could go out in broad daylight without worry. It was as overcast and inclement as London. He should feel at home.

He felt something moving behind him but before Spike could turn, something slammed into his skull so hard that his last thought was ‘I’m dead.’


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Spike was very surprised to find himself alive but his head hurt so much he almost wished he wasn’t. The light was dim when he managed to force his eyes open. It took a moment to register that he was in a cage. Spike managed to get to his feet, memories of the Initiative making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He didn’t like this one bit.

He took stock of his surroundings. There were other cages but they were currently empty. Exercise equipment had been pushed to the walls to make room for the cages. The newly formed dungeon must have been the weight room for the rich yuppies before Illyria and her demons took over the condo high-rise. He could hear the storm still raging outside.

Spike tried the door then rattled the bars. He wasn’t really surprised to find them sturdy and locked tight. The cages would probably hold most demons. Spike’s balls tightened. He really didn’t want to find out what Illyria did to people who displeased her. Why didn’t he have a cell phone? Illyria probably didn’t know what one was. He was too cheap, that’s why. He could kick himself in the ass.

He had no idea how much time had passed when Illyria arrived alone. When she opened the door, Spike, tried to rush her, not at all surprised to find himself on the ground in a heartbeat, as if he had one to gage by. She locked the door behind her. 

“What’s with bashing me over the head and locking me up, Blue?” He gathered himself up, trying to recover some dignity.

“You are needed,” she replied, surprising him. He knew she didn’t like anything that suggested a weakness in her. “I can not let you leave.”

“I said I’d help,” Spike reminded her.

Her blue eyes fastened on him, making him squirm. “No one trusted you before so I do not either.”

“That hurts, Blue.” Spike pouted, then remembered Illyria wouldn’t be impressed or swayed by emotions.

“You need to stay and help.”

“You could have just asked, Blue. No need for all of this.” Spike rattled his cage.

“You will not like your task,” Illyria said, as if that was a reason for caging him.

“Okay, I don’t like the sound of that,” Spike said, unease creeping up his spine.

“I need to understand the overwhelming urges of this shell, urges that require me to do this.” Illyria held her arms out to her sides and her clothing disappeared.

Spike couldn’t help himself. He looked at her lean body and saw Fred’s slender hips, her clementine breasts, the triangular patch of curly blue-tinged hair between her legs. She looked so human and vulnerable, and the whole idea of looking at her was surreal. “Um, are you asking me to show you about sex?” That was the last thing Spike expected, and yet there was still something niggling in the back of his mind, saying she was keeping something hidden.

Her lips puckered. “That is what this is? How does it work in this form? This shell’s memories are imperfect.”

“Go figure this is something you don’t know. Thought Percy would have shown you.” Spike leaned against the cage, trying to put some distance between them. She followed him. “How’d it work the last time you tried it?”

“I no longer have those organs.” Illyria ripped his shirt off. “You wanted to teach me before when we were with the others. Teach me this.”

Somehow being commanded to perform just wasn’t sexy, well not in this manner. Occasionally Dru would give orders but usually it was midstream after he was all hot and bothered. This was more like the time Darla screwed him just to prove a point to the poof. A sensation like his balls and cock had risen into his chest overwhelmed Spike.

“I don’t know about that.” Spike crossed his arms over his bared skin.

Her eyes became icier, the blue paling out. He could feel the cold. “It was not a request. Remove your pants. This act requires nudity, does it not?”

He shifted uneasily. “Well yeah, but I don’t want to.”

“Remove your pants or I shall.”

“And people get off on this kind of thing. I know Peaches does. Figures.” Spike skinned out of his black jeans. His best part was definitely sound asleep.

She grabbed it. “Is that it? Is it adequate?” 

He swatted her hand away and said, his voice ripe with indignance. “It’s more than adequate.”

Her lips curled back. “It’s doesn’t appear so. Show me.”

Spike decided it was an offer he couldn’t refuse, literally. He was half afraid Illyria might just rip it off in disgust. At least insulting his manhood made it wake up but Illyria didn’t seem impressed with it then, either. Regardless, he took her to the cage floor and showed her what he could do with it. This could be like the games he played with Dru or Buffy or even Harmony. He could pretend to want to be here not matter how much he didn’t. 

Midstream, Illyria rolled him off of her. “This is all there is to human mating?”

Oh Hell she’s going to bite my bloody head off, isn’t she? “Well, there’re variations on a theme. I can show them to you,” he said, hoping he’d get a chance.

She got on top of him. “Show me.”

Her body shuddered, changing slightly. Spike felt the snake-like things moving along his thighs before he saw them. He thought he saw extra arms before the snake legs slithered over his eyes and wrapped around his throat. Spike remembered that picture of Illyria that Wes had shown them. She was reverting to form, sort of, keeping enough of Fred’s form to keep mating possible. The snakes constricted over his throat so hard that if he needed to breathe he’d be dead. He had known lovers who would have paid good money for an erotic asphyxiation like this. He could do without it since it had no effect on him outside of pain. The situation went from bad to worse as the snaky extensions started poking into any orifice they could find.

Hopes for escape once they were done flittered away when Illyria barely allowed him to rest, demanding more and more. When she finally let him crawl to the corner of the cage, Spike felt battered, bruises all over his body. His penis throbbed like that time when his family had been playing a raucous game that ended up badly. Angelus had toppled off the bed on top of Spike by accident and driving Spike’s erection into the floor, breaking it. Darla and Angelus had a good laugh. Dru catered to him for weeks but the pain had lasted for days. He was expecting a dull throb between his legs for a day or two now.

“How long does it take this form to reproduce?” Illyria asked, as if she had done nothing wrong to him.

Spike rubbed his sore neck. “What?”

“Reproduce.” Her armor reappeared and he heaved a sigh of relief. “How long does it take?”

Spike shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way, Blue. Humans don’t get pregnant every time.”

A perturbed expression marred her otherwise glacial face. “That is inconvenient.”

From the look on her face, Spike was suddenly very afraid he’d be in this cage until that happened. “Illyria, you can’t use me for this. I’m dead. I can’t make babies.”

She grabbed him by the hair, hauling him up. “Liar.”

He fought to free himself, losing some bleached locks. “I’m a vampire, Illyria. This is just the dead shell of who I was.” He tapped his bruised chest. “Just like that’s a shell of the woman you killed. I don’t think it can even get preggers.”

“Enough of my essence exists to make it possible.” Illyria shoved him back against the cage, then turned, adding softly. “There has to be. It is written.”

“Written? Are you telling me there’s a prophecy?” So that’s what she had been hiding. “I can’t believe I fell for the ‘teach me what sex is’ line? Who am I? Captain Kirk?” Spike winced at the Xander-Andrew-ism that had leached into his brain. “Well, I suppose I didn’t really fall for it since I didn’t have a bloody choice.”

“A child will come that can open dimensions,” Illyria said.

“What makes you think it will be yours?” Spike said, thinking of Dawn. Whatever happened to him, Illyria couldn’t find out about Dawnie. What if her blood opened more than just Glory’s realm?

“I have reasons,” she said, letting herself out of the cage.

“Wait, Illyria, since I can’t help you with this, you going to let me out of the cage and help you with something else?” He tried to sound nonchalant since that was his best chance of escaping.

“No.” Without another word, she stalked out of the room.

“Damn it!” 

Spike rattled the cage knowing he had made a real cock up of it now. He was the last one who knew how dangerous Illyria could be and he was now her prisoner. This was what leading with the heart instead of the brain got him. Spike pulled on his clothing gingerly then flopped back on the floor. Concrete floor below him, strong metal around him; he had his work cut out for him. He’d have to talk Illyria into giving him a cot, assuming she ever came back. If he couldn’t get her pregnant, she might just decide he was useless and leave him to die. He had escaped ugly situations before and given time, he knew he could do it again. Spike listened to the quiet. The storm had ended. He wondered if Cleveland was done waiting for the sun.

 

The challenge Lyrics - lyrics used in bold

 _**Rain - Breaking Benjamin** _  
**Take a photograph,**  
It'll be the last,  
Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here, 

I don't have a past  
I just have a chance,  
Not a family or honest plea remains to say, 

**Rain rain go away,  
** Come again another day,   
All the world is **waiting for the sun.**

 **Is it you I want,  
** Or just the notion   
Of a heart to wrap around so I can find my way around 

Safe to say from here,  
Your getting closer now,  
We are never sad cause we are not allowed to be 

Rain rain go away,  
Come again another day,  
All the world is waiting for the sun. 

Rain rain go away,  
Come again another day,  
All the world is waiting for the sun. 

To lie here under you, Is all that I could ever do,  
To lie here under you is all,  
To lie here under you is all that i could ever do,  
To lie here under you is all, 

Rain rain go away,  
Come again another day,  
All the world is waiting for the sun. 

Rain rain go away,  
Come again another day,  
All the world is waiting for the sun,  
All the world is waiting for the sun,  
All the world is waiting for the sun.


End file.
